Dusty Fields and Long Trails
by Villis
Summary: Revised. When Irvine leaves he has no idea just what he's giving up. Can Squall find him to tell him? Slash.
1. Saying I Love You

Two years ago….

"You don't have to talk," the sniper said softly, the gentle accent of his speech opening the vowels, more seductive in its way than the dark emotion in his eyes or the rich auburn fall of his unbound hair. "You don't have to care. You can forget all of this by dawn. Just kiss me."

"Kinneas…"

"Irvine for tonight. Squall, please, I can't-I can't be alone tonight. I just need…"

The sentence was left unfinished, dying into shameful silence, but there was little more left to be said, after all. Squall understood need. He knew he should refuse, knew he should make it an order for the sniper to never come to him like this again. If the man had come to him in passion or bribery he would have done just that, would have turned his back on the offering and suffered anger for it. But need…he understood need, understood the aching hurt that was more painful than any sting of the blade. And the night was cold, the moon a ball of glowing red that shone a dismal light, and there was a plea in the cowboy's blue eyes that he could not deny.

He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to a mouth that was soft and burning hot, opening eagerly for his advances without hesitation. "Only for tonight, understand?" he whispered against the full lips, though it felt unnecessary to demand such a promise, even crass. They both knew the rules of the game they were playing and the terms of engagement. It seemed clear to Squall that his bedroll was hardly the first Irvine had visited in his lifetime, driven by pressure and the fear of dying alone. It seemed he should see it as weakness, something to be despised…but there was only pity in him, pity and perhaps a gentle sort of affection. There was a chance the world would end tomorrow if the sniper's bullet did not fly true. He could not begrudge the man any last scream of fury at fate…and he knew too well just how many different ways there were to scream.

Irvine responded wholeheartedly to his kiss, sighing in relief or pleasure, the lean body relaxing into a sprawl. "I'll be gone before you wake," he said, a solemn oath that was tempered by the glint of mischief in his eyes. "Touch me."

So Squall did. And for one night neither of them was really alone, though not exactly together either. But it was enough. Had to be enough. Squall wasn't sure he had it in himself to offer anything more…and he knew Irvine wasn't looking for it.

But now, laying chained and waiting for torture and remembering, he realized he had wanted to give more, to take more, to speak…and that small thought scared him more than anything that might be coming. He strained against his bonds, feeling the metal grid at his back, and remembered how it felt to be warm.


	2. The Range

Squall waited impatiently as the elevator made its short descent to the lower level, gritting his teeth in annoyance at the happy instrumental music that was being piped over the speakers. He had taken this trip over a hundred times in his life…and yet he had never realized just how damned slow the thing was or just how much it resembled a coffin. A very small coffin.

The round chamber finally drifted to a stop, setting down on the loading dock with a gentle bump. The doors opened with their customary and completely unnecessary chime and Squall pushed past the crowd waiting to enter, ignoring the grumbles of annoyance and muttered threats. He paused for a moment at the end of the pathway that joined the rounded interior lobby of the Garden, considering his next move. If the rumors he'd heard in the classroom were true he had perhaps ten or twenty minutes to locate his prey. But would it make more sense to head for the barracks or the garage? If the man was already packed and Squall headed for his quarters, he stood the chance of missing him entirely and that simply wasn't acceptable. Better to go the garage, though that did mean the possibility of a confrontation on public ground and perhaps the trial of waiting, especially if the gossip was false. His students had seemed a smart enough group but so young and so inexperienced…it was impossible to trust any of their mutterings. Still, the garage did seem the safer of the two options. It was probably only a false alarm…surely just a false alarm…but he would be neglecting his duties if he didn't check it out.

He spun with a scowl and started down the long corridor, angry at his own weakness that insisted he find out the trust. He'd barely made it a dozen feet before he spotted his quarry in the distance, moving fast and with a focused intent that sent that first shiver of fear down Squall's spine. He lengthened his own stride to catch up with the taller teen, shoving his hands into his pockets and trying to hurry without looking like he was, well, hurrying. They matched each other step for step for a few moments in silence, both refusing to acknowledge the other. It was Squall who broke the quiet, his resolve to force the sniper to speak first broken by the tan duffle bag the cowboy carried and the keys that dangled from one long hand. He couldn't ask for anymore proof of the rumors than that.

"Kinneas?" he asked, his tone trying for mild curiosity and hitting hard anger instead. "What the hell is going on? The new recruits are saying you're leaving."

Irvine waved one hand lazily in the air; not slowing his pace as they neared the entrance to the Garden's parking garage, the motion so nonchalant as to be insulting. He showed no surprise at Squall's presence, his manner that of one confronted with some small but expected irritation, and the SeeD leader had to forcibly stop himself from grabbing the sniper's arm and spinning him into the wall. The entire scene felt like a farce, some play designed to manipulate him into feeling more concern and worry than he was comfortable with. If he'd known news of his plans would bring Squall scurrying down to the lower level the very least Kinneas could have done was cut the theatrics and waited.

"It's time for me to be on my way, Mr. Leader. Crisis averted and all that. So, like, what's the problem?" Irvine said without turning, his gaze focused resolutely on some distant point down the hall.

"I had assumed you were staying on here," Squall answered, his anger dying in the face of honest confusion. A new thought hit and he paused, frowning. "Is someone bothering you?" It was the only explanation he could see for the abrupt departure and he was surprised he hadn't considered it earlier. Why else would Irvine try to cut and run so suddenly, without a word of warning or goodbye? "You know we can take care of it."

The sniper sighed and shook his head, finally stopping and turning to look directly at Squall. "No one is bothering me and don't think I don't know what you mean by 'take care of it'. Though I do appreciate the thought," he said, a small smile playing across his lips. "Things just didn't work out like I planned so I thought it was time to move on."

"What, you mean with Selphie? You're leaving because she's with Zell?

"Nice to know you think I'm that petty. Yeah, I wish something more had happened between us but I'm, like, happy she's happy. I just don't see the point in sticking around where I'm not wanted. Got better things to be doing, ya know?"

"No, I don't know," Squall growled. "What the hell is that supposed to mean, not wanted? What about your friends? You think Zell and Quistis and Selphie won't miss you?" He nearly swallowed the next question, finally spitting it out with venom that left it sharp and sarcastic. "You think I won't miss you?"

Irvine leaned back against the black, low sling car he had claimed as his own, measuring him with clear blue eyes that seemed filled with a strange, calm sadness. "No, I don't think you will. I really don't think any of you will. For God's sake man, you barely remember my name half the time, Zell can't stand me, and the girls could care less if I'm there or not. Do we really have to pretend otherwise? It isn't like this is the first time I've been forgotten, you know…I know the signs."

The bitterness behind the words shocked Squall into silence. He wanted to protest, wanted desperately to deny any truth at all in the accusations…but he had to wonder if the sniper wasn't right after all. When was the last time they'd invited Irvine on a group outing? Sure, he joined them if he was already there…but how often did they actively seek him out? It wasn't that Squall hadn't missed his presence, hadn't noticed the hole he left behind…but he'd just assumed Irvine was busy chasing girls. And if he was honest…hadn't he rather preferred that thought? Preferred not having to face the man and the things he represented?

Irvine laughed, breaking Squall out of his silent musing. The sound was honestly amused and unrestrained, a gentle chuckle that faded slowly. "You're thinking too hard again," he said, "Don't look so upset. Maybe I'll see you guys around someplace."

"No," Squall said, not a request but an order, grabbing a bony shoulder before the sniper could turn. "This is stupid. Don't go."

Irvine shook his head, all signs of mirth disappearing, replaced by that same slow sadness. "Why not?"

Such a simple, terribly loaded question. What could Squall say? What could he offer? Pity would be refused and their actions had already spoken far louder than any words he could speak now. He'd never been good at meaningless reassurances. The only way he knew to stop the man was to admit the truth…and he wasn't yet strong enough for that.

"And that's my point." Irvine said, breaking the deep silence that had fallen. "Look, Squall, don't worry about it. I expected this."

Squall's stomach twisted at the words so casually spoken. Expected what? To be forgotten, pushed aside, ignored? He'd been blind, thinking he finally understood friendship but he saw too clearly now how much an illusion that had been, how much a joke. He had betrayed Irvine first, that was true…but expecting Squall and the others to fail was betrayal too, wasn't it? He pushed the thought away with effort.

"Where will you go?"

Irvine shrugged, leaning forward with the motion until the brow of his hat nearly touched the SeeD leader's face. Squall had never really gotten used to the way the sniper's entire body tended to move with his speech, as though the words required real physical effort to release. "Not really sure. I dropped out of SeeD. I think it's clear I'm not really cut out for more than sniping monsters. But I'll do fine for myself."  
  
There was little doubt in Squall's mind of that. If nothing else Kinneas was a clever son of a bitch who could make the best use of the fewest resources of anyone Squall had ever known. He was also quite a bit smarter than he generally lead people to believe.

"Alright," he said finally, "It's your choice. But I want you to know I don't agree with it. Take care of yourself. If you need us, you know where we are."  
  
He offered a hand, smiling inwardly at the surprise in the weary eyes before Irvine grinned and took it, shaking firmly.

"Same to you, Mr. Leader. And keep an eye on the others for me. Miss me!" he called, flinging himself into the convertible and slamming the door. The engine revved hard, smoke peeling out for the wheels as the powerful little car pulled out of the garage, taking the ramp at a speed that made Squall wince.

I will Squall thought, I know you don't believe that, but I will. 

* * *

Squall's pace as he walked into the cafeteria was in sharp contrast to his hurried flight to the garage, a slow languid stroll that hid his inner confusion and anger. He closed his eyes at the immediate whistles and catcalls from the table nestled in the furthest corner, wishing his pride would let him just turn and run. This wasn't going to be pretty. His hand scraped over his hip, searching for the hilt of a gunblade that was safely stored away. It seemed a silly thing, to miss that comfortable weight at his side…but he'd be lying if he claimed he felt truly safe without it. But he also knew no weapon would make this task any easier and he took a deep breath for courage and headed toward his remaining friends, acknowledging their exuberant greetings with a nod.

"Hey, Squall!" Selphie said as soon as he was in decent shouting distance, which for her meant still halfway across the room. "What's the news?"

He waited until he'd actually reached their table and sat before answering. "I assume you heard the same rumors I did?"

Selphie nodded, wrinkling her nose as she grinned. "Well, yeah, but we figured you'd take care of it. You know how first years are…so what's the truth? Zell said he was just going out for a drive but I think he was heading into town for a hot date."

Squall sighed and leaned forward to rest his elbows on the stained steel surface. "The truth is Irvine is gone. He left SeeD," he said without preamble. "Turns out the first years aren't as stupid as you think."

He hadn't expected this news to go over well and wasn't disappointed. Selphie gaped at him in plain shock and Zell looked up from his hot dogs, coughing as he tried to both speak and swallow. "What the hell did you do, help him put his bags in the trunk? Why would he leave? Why would you let him?" he asked, the questions coming in rapid-fire succession.

Squall shrugged, avoiding their angry gazes. "He made his choice. He said he didn't feel this was the place for him. Said he was lonely and depressed. I wasn't going to tie him down to make him stay."

"But he didn't seem depressed to me." Selphie put in, frowning tightly. "He was chasing trainees in the Quad just yesterday."

Squall was saved from answering by Quistis, who had been sitting silently until now, her face calm and thoughtful. "Haven't you noticed by now that the more tense Irvine gets, the more he flirts?" she asked with a sigh, her tone distracted and distant, as though her mind had been on other things. "I thought that was rather obvious."

"Hey, you're right!" Zell said, hitting the table with a fist in sudden enthusiasm. Squall had to lunge forward to save a glass from tumbling off the edge and shot the short fighter a looking of warning. He got only an unabashed grin in return.

"Nice reflexes," Zell said and went on a bit more sedately. "I just never thought about it before. He couldn't leave any of the girls alone before the sniper mission, but he mostly kept to himself after that. And when Selphie hooked up with me, he was all over every female in Garden for a few weeks and then he just stopped and wouldn't come out of his room."

Quistis nodded. "Exactly. It's just a form of stress relief. Better than drinking or drugs I suppose. The gossip mill never reported him actually sleeping with anyone."

Squall shifted uncomfortably in his plastic seat, covered his sudden confusion by falling back into silence, letting the sudden explosion of agreements and theories wash over him. He'd known about Irvine's particular habit of using flowery language and seduction when upset, of course. Knew a lot more about it than anyone else in the room. But why should he feel so relived that the man hadn't been carrying his games out to their logical ends over the past few months? Irvine was a handsome man and any of the older students would have gladly bedded him…the males as well as the females in many cases. So if he wasn't actually having sex, it was by choice…

Zell's smack on his arm broke him free of his thoughts and he turned his attention to his friend, raising a brow in question at the physical attack. The short fighter's face was serious, his eyes dark and somber. "So he really is gone? Like, gone gone?

"Yes."

"I can't say I'm surprised at that, either." Quistis said softly, shrugging at little at the looks they gave her. Well, he's not exactly mentally prepared to be an assassin."

Selphie picked up her soda with a growl, sipping at it with an angry concentration that spoke much as to her inner state of mind. "So you knew he was upset, you knew he was thinking of quitting, and you didn't say anything?" she asked Quisis, who blushed and ducked her head.

"I thought he would work through it on his own. I was busy…" she mumbled at the tabletop.

"We were all busy," Squall interrupted before a real fight could develop; weary now with the entire conversation. "At least Quistis knew him well enough to see something was wrong. And it's too late to change things now so I don't see the point in talking about it. He's not coming back, it's that simple."

An uncomfortable silence fell across the little group as they each considered that. The typical banter rose again, slowly, but Squall barely heard it. His thoughts were on a night long distant, a night of fumbling angry passion and growled words in the dark. He'd told Irvine then that he didn't want connection from him, didn't want emotion, and Irvine had agreed. And it had been what he wanted then, what they both wanted. But now his friend was gone and he found himself regretting things left undone and unsaid. He should have tried harder…but Irvine hadn't tried either, had he? They'd all sworn loyalty, had pledged to remain friends until death…but the sniper wasn't dead, just gone, lost to an enemy Squall didn't have the courage to fight.

He turned to the window, ignoring Selphie's question of concern, closed his eyes, and remembered. Maybe he couldn't say the things that would make Irvine stay or admit how much it hurt that he was gone. But he could remember…and he had a feeling that would have pleased the other man more than anything. It was all he had ever wanted, after all.


End file.
